


One Minute Of Being Myself

by Laura_nagy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Non-Famous Harry, Non-Famous Louis Tomlinson, Possible Character Death, References to Depression, Sexual Assault, Sexuality Crisis, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28677849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laura_nagy/pseuds/Laura_nagy
Summary: He had to tell the world. He just had to.He wanted to be himself, for one minute only.orA fan fiction in which Harry gets messages from a hilarious guy and struggles to accept his sexuality.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Kudos: 3





	1. part one

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my fellow 1D and Larry stans :) 
> 
> I just want to mention English is not my first language and this is my first try to actually write a fan fiction.  
> But I hope you will enjoy this.  
> Feedback is always welcomed.  
> Thanks for reading!  
> 

It was one of those dark, rainy days. The clouds never seemed to fade and the rain never seemed to come to an end. Depressing.

The space of the small cinema was crowded full. Everyone out of the neighborhood wanted to escape from the weather by watching a good movie. 

The smell of spicy nachos filled the air and the sound of the popcorn machine was annoyingly loud.

"Harry! Hurry up mate!"

_Mate? Oh shut up._

But Harry did what he was told to, even though his stubborn brain was screaming against it. He could not work against his boss.

His boss.

He hated this man.

Or should he say boy?

They were the same age, which made it pretty hard for Harry to not scream at the other lad, for being demanding.

But well, he was just an employee. And he needed the money.

"Can't you fucking hear, bro?"

_Bro._

He sighed and looked at his boss with a fake smile on his lips.

"Watch me move like a tornado. 'M gonna break all the records of selling nachos."

His boss chuckled sheepishly, while he opened a new bag of napkins.

"I don't think there are any records scaled. Now work, Curly." His voice became louder at the end.

_Curly? Fuck you!_

Yes. Harry had the most endearing curls on this planet, but it didn't give his boss the rights to call him by this nickname in any case.

Harry decided to ignore it and worked.

His whole body felt exhausted and every movement was painfully tiring.

The money was worth it though. He had to pay for his apartment, because his mother wouldn't help him at all.

She told him he was an adult and he had to take care of himself.

_Selfcare._

A sensitive topic for Harry.

A loud noise made him jump out of his thoughts.

It happened to be a bottle of juice.

A small girl was standing there.

Shocked face, eyes wide and mouth open. Her eyes lingered on the pile of broken glass. The sticky juice soaking in the red carpet.

Everyone stared at her. Judging from afar.

What is wrong with people nowadays?

Harry rushed to the girl, a broom in one hand and a shovel in the other.

The girl stepped back, but he told her to calm down. That it was fine. That everyone made mistakes. That she didn't have to be embarrassed.

She nearly cried and Harry told her to ignore the piercing looks around her.

He knew what he was talking about.

This simple situation gave him flashbacks. Flashbacks to his childhood.

The judging people. The insulting remarks. The whispering behind his back.

_Anxiety._

_Tears._

_Fake smiles._

Harry cleaned the carpet with the girl and gave her a new juice.

He also comforted her with some kind words and hoped she didn't have bad memories of this accident, because he knew damn well, that every little mistake could make you insecure about yourself.

The girl's mother came back from the toilet and payed for the second juice. She apologized for her daughter's misbehavior.

Misbehavior?

Harry just shook his head in disappointment, his curly hair bouncing uncontrollably and headed back to work.

The rest of his shift went by faster without interruptions. Even his boss didn't say anything suspicious.

The first thing he did when he arrived into his apartment, was to strip out of his clothing.

He threw everything in the corner of his small bedroom and naked like he was, he walked into his bathroom.

The boy took a long hot shower and as the water surrounded him comfortably, he closed his eyes and his mind wandered back to this girl in the cinema.

Such a cruelty, how every adult was watching her and nobody even tried to help her.

Well, it wasn't their job. But still. Who wouldn't help a child? A child who was frightened.

Harry hated inequity.

After his shower he sat down, covered in towels, on his old grey couch, that his grandma used to own about 30 years ago.

He took his phone and opened the Twitter app, to distract himself from overthinking everything. Like always.

There were some news of his favorite band 'The 1975' and some new photos of Matty Healy, the lead singer of the band.

Harry was a big fan of Matty.

He tweeted about how good Matty looked in his new outfits before locking his phone again.

It was dark outside and in his apartment as well. The noise of cars passing by was the only sound he could hear.

But suddenly his phone vibrated and the screen lit up.

A notification from Twitter.

Before Harry opened those messages he had received, he checked the account which had not only messaged but followed him.

It was a decent fan account of 'The 1975' with lots of followers and apparently run by a guy, according to the name "Matty Devon".

There weren't any other informations, so he decided to read the messages.

Harry barely talked to other people on his social media accounts.

It made him feel uncomfortable and he wasn't sure why.

_Perhaps because you don't know how to respond, loser._

His pulse started quickening and he got kind of nervous.

What could this fan account possibly want?

The boy finally opened the messages:

 **Matty Devon:** howdy dude! What's poppin'?

What a freak, he thought.

Smalltalk was the hardest thing ever.

He felt like, his thoughts got stuck in his head and it was so difficult for him to just think of something easy to respond.

Like he didn't know how to talk or he didn't learn vocabulary at all.

_Aren't **you** the freak?_

His mind was running fast. What could he message the other lad? Or did he even want to answer?

He was so tired. Tired because of work and tired in general and his brain didn't work. The thoughts foggy.

His body needed to rest.

What if he wouldn't text back? Probably a good option.

_You are such a coward._

Harry placed his phone on the couch table and threw the towels in his bathroom. He couldn't care less.

After the boy put on a pair of boxers, he sat down on his bed.

He heard his stomach growling, because he didn't eat anything since lunch, but why should he? It wasn't like it made him feel any better.

The birds were chirping loudly and the sun was shining brightly.

It was quite the opposite weather compared to the day before.

Harry opened his eyes and stretched his sore muscles.

He could just jump out of his comfortable bed and eat something delicious, but he didn't.

He didn't, because his body was incredibly tired.

The boy never felt well rested.

After a few failed attempts he somehow ended up crawling out of his bed and stumbled to his old couch a room further.

Again, he took his phone and immediately let it drop on his lap.

"What the actual fuck?!" He exclaimed, eyebrows raised, eyes widened.

Another look back on his phone revealed, he wasn't imagining it.

There were several messages on Twitter waiting for him, which was fine, but there also were some calls and text messages from a phone number he was unfamiliar with.

**Unknown:** heyaa! you kind of ignored me on twitter

**Unknown:** as if you're already asleep

**Unknown** : oh boi

Harry was confused. So it was that guy. Who was he? Who was Matty Devon?

And since he had a confidence boost, he decided to answer with the first line that came to his mind.

 **Harry:** WHY U SO OBSESSED WITH ME

Only a few minutes later there was a response.

 **Matty Devon:** And boy I want to know, lyin' that you're sexting me.

**Matty Devon:** i knew u were funny ;))

Okay. What was that? Sexing?

Weirdo.

And now? He couldn't think of any answer that fast.

He just wanted to tell him to fuck off, but something deep inside of his mind was curious.

Curious about what could happen.

Where did this guy get his number from anyway?

He wanted to know.

Would that be a good option to carry on the conversation?

No. _You are boring as fuck._

**Harry:** What is this? A song?

**Matty Devon:** damn. I really thought u would know.

And ye. It is a song

He was embarrassed, because he didn't know this song, which he probably had heard somewhere and catched up some lyrics. He hated making mistakes. It was something his school time ruined for him. Teachers calling him out, because his thoughts or answers were "wrong and silly".

More texting?

Okay, yes.

He felt a sudden urge.

What was the worst thing to happen if the other lad got bored of him? Nothing. Matty Devon was just a random guy on Twitter.

_It's going to ruin your confidence once more._

Harry just tried to switch off his mind. Stop overthinking.

**Harry:** are you some big matty healy fan?

**Matty Devon:** I'm assuming you're asking because of my name?

**Harry:** eh, yes?

**Matty Devon:** i am a fan indeed ;) and before you ask... my real name is a secret

What the hell? This stalkerish fellow didn't even want to tell his name?

Good start, he thought...

Now Harry had to find out what his name was and also where he got his phone number from. Perfect. 

But before he could ask anything, the so called Matty had texted him again.

**Matty Devon:** Did it hurt when you fell from the vending machine? Because you're sure looking like a snacc ;))

Was this some sort of joke?

Harry let out a soft giggle and immediately shot his hand to his mouth.

"You need to stop Harry.", he told himself. Why would he laugh about this bullshit? 

What exactly was this whole situation?

He decided not to respond, because nothing useful came to his mind and he got nervous again. 

Was it weird to ask the other lad about his name? Ugh. Harry would love to know his name. Maybe he knew this guy. Or was it a girl? And asking where 'Matty' got his number from, made him anxious.

What if he knew the person? Or what if 'Matty' was a weird stalker?

Stop your mind.

He had do get ready for work anyway. No time for disturbing thoughts and overthinking.

The boy drank a cup of tea and put on a plain white hoodie alongside some black skinny jeans.

___________

"Harry. You are late."

His boss stood beside the popcorn machine. Left eyebrow raised. Arms crossed in front of his chest.

Harry grimaced.

Not again...

"The traffic was bad. Like really really bad." He lied once again. "I'm sorry Toni."

Toni.

Yes. That was his name. He was small, but intimidating as fuck.

His brown hair pulled into a fringe at his forehead. Glazing eyes almost black.

"You said that once before, bro."

_Shut up._

"Don't you dare lying to me." Toni walked to Harry and laid a hand on his shoulder. Squeezing it lightly.

_Don't touch me..._

His boss leaned to Harrys ear. "Now get to work, otherwise I'm gonna kick your hot ass out of the cinema."

Then he walked away, with a stupid grin on his face and triumphing noises coming out of his disgusting mouth.

_Fuck you. Pervert._

Harry clenched his fists tightly.

Statements like these made him angry. So unbelievably angry.

Well, he knew he shouldn't have lied, but still.

He breathed in deeply and tried to calm himself down.

_Fine. Nevermind._

He started to work, but his dark mood was obvious to everyone and he didn't sell as many nachos as normally.

Still, hundreds of people bought drinks and nachos.

They were very lucky, just watching a good movie with friends on a nice afternoon, he thought, while holding back the tears out of frustration.

Tears. Nothing special. He felt sad and tired again. Please let this misery end...

Hours passed by slowly.

Every now and then he glanced at the clock on the wall behind him.

All of a sudden Harry felt a hand on his bum. His heart stopped for a few seconds.

He turned around only to see Toni.

His boss was grinning smugly.

"Working hard I see?"

Tonis usually raspy voice, sounded high pitched.

"Sure." Still shocked by the uncertain touch, Harry couldn't respond more than this.

His heart was racing and his knees got weak.

Why would his boss touch his damn ass?

Maybe it wasn't intended?

The shocked boy breathed in heavily to calm himself down.

"Can you like not watch me while I am working?"

Harry took his bottle of water from the counter and clenched it until it nearly broke.

Toni didn't even watch him. The boss was standing beside the fridge, drinking his coffee.

"Mate. You alright there? Kinda paranoid today, huh?" He drank one last sip and placed his cup loudly on the counter beside Harry.

You alright?

YOU FUCKING TOUCHED MY ASS!

His brain screamed.

The confused boy forced a smile on his face and let go of his bottle.

He turned to Toni. Another fake smile on his lips.

"I was kidding. Never mind."

Toni just nodded and eyed him intensely.

A costumer came to the counter and ordered some nachos and coke.

Harry served the order politely, but he could feel his boss' gaze lingering on his back.

He felt uncomfortable and suddenly it was really hard to count the amount of change for the costumer.

This weird feeling accompanied the boy until his shift was over.

Harry didn't experience things like that before. Was he asexual, because he didn't like the touches? Or was it a normal thing to feel uncomfortable? He was really confused and his mind was running wild. He could't think of anything else.

The traffic on the streets blurred out entirely. His vision went fuzzy. He had to stop his motorbike and take a break.

What was up with him? He felt so out of place.

The boy was on the edge of tears.


	2. part two

**Matty Devon** : Boi. Why u always ignoring me?

 **Matty Devon:** NVM. I knew you were a busy guy. That's so hot tbh

Not "Matty Devon" again. Harry nearly had forgotten about the Twitter stalker or whatever. 

But of course he had to come back on his own. Yes, he definitely could call this guy a stalker.

Harry´s feet hurt and he was so tired. After his little breakdown he actually managed to get home safely, but he still felt miserable.

He was standing in his kitchen, lost and exhausted.

His belly growled once again, but he couldn't care less, he just simply didn't have an appetite.

The events from earlier lingered heavily on his stomach and he felt kinda sick.

How could Toni touch his butt? And why? What could have gone through his mind?

Harrys hands started shaking again, just at the thought of it, the thoughts about what could have Toni wanted. He could see the images of Tonis grabbing his him more than he actually did. 

A cold shiver run down his spine, but he rather felt weirdly warm.

Harry opened the window in his small kitchen and sat down on the red stool.

He tried to breathe evenly, but it did not help at all, not even the fresh air made it better.

Suddenly he felt like he couldn't get air in his lungs and he started sweating heavily, the heat rushing through his veins.

His stomach was churning and he nearly threw up.

Disgusting.

He was disgusted by himself.

 _You are disgusting._

What was happening?

Harry had to close his eyes, his head felt like a stone. No thoughts could reach his mind anymore.

A sudden exhaustion caught him, which he couldn't resist.

The boy laid his head down on his wooden kitchen table, eyes closed.

The typical smell of Ikea hit his nose, probably because he had bought the table a few weeks ago at a store.

He slowly drifted into the world of nightmares and slept an unpleasant sleep.

A cold breeze made him wake up. He was still laying on the table and the kitchen was keenly dark.

Oh wow. How long had he been asleep?

One hour? Two hours?

He really felt dizzy and he was hungry as fuck. His lips and his throat were dry as a desert. He had to cough, once he swallowed some saliva.

Why did he sleep in the first place?

He couldn't remember what had happened.

Only that he couldn't breathe properly and he had felt sick.

He slowly got up, switched on the lights and went to his fridge. It was time for some food. 

It was a small, grey one, never filled up with food.

Harry took out some cheese, a few tomatoes and a bottle of water.

Well, better than nothing, he thought.

While he was eating and gulping down the water, he checked his phone which was still laying on the table.

Again. Some messages from "Matty Devon".

It was time to answer, he thought.

**Harry:** Can you like chill your tits or something. I am not feeling well and you are pretty annoying

And "Matty Devon" answered immediately. He should definitely think about blocking that dude everywhere. 

**Matty Devon:** OH. Boi what is up

Do u need medical care

Huh. At least he didn't take the insult personally.

**Harry:** no. I'm fine. Why would you care anyway

**Matty Devon:** pretty please, tell me what's wrong, i could help ya

**Harry:** i dont think you can help me

**Matty Devon:** SPILL THE TEA PRETTY BOI 

This guy never gave up, so maybe he had to give in.

How would "Matty" know how he looked like?

Why did he call him pretty?

Sure, Harry had a decent face. Green eyes, brown curly hair. Nice lips and a well shaped body. But he didn't give a fuck about his look. He couldn't change his appearance.

**Harry:** ugh. Stop giving me compliments

But Harry had to admit, it felt really good to have someone's attention. A pretty rare moment, that was.

**Matty Devon:** Now tell me or I WILL CALL YOU

**Harry:** What a weak threat. HAHA

**Matty Devon:** Getting sassy over there, huh

**Harry:** I don't even know your name.

Why would I talk to you?

**Matty Devon:** I cannot tell ya my name

**Harry:** why?

**Matty Devon:** I'd hafta kill ya

The Twitter stalker made him laugh again. Wow... how?

And suddenly his phone vibrated.

This guy did not make jokes.

Should he answer his phone?

But why would this "Matty" guy talk to him? Why would someone want to talk to a complete stranger?

Fuck it.

He had to overcome his fears and his newly gained confidence made the boy strongly curious.

"Hello?"

His voice sounded small and unsure, more than he intended to. Nearly whispering.

"Boy, are you crying?" A really rough, soothing manly voice hit Harrys ears. It also was a bit raspy, with a higher tone. Pretty comforting.

"OH!" Harry exclaimed.

"Don't moan cutie. It is too early for phone sex."

The curly boy stopped breathing for a second, but then he started laughing really hard.

The dry, honest way how "Matty" told him such a weird statement, was hilarious.

"Please, laugh more. I love it." Harry could literally hear "Matty" smiling while talking on the other line.

Plus Harry could feel blood rushing to his cheeks. Ugh. He hated blushing. It made him feel vulnerable which wasn't good at all.

He didn't know what to respond.

He could simply thank for the compliment, but he didn't get the point of thanking for something he couldn't affect anyway.

"Pretty boy. Keep talking, pleaseeeee." "Matty" said, voice heightened.

Pretty boy, again...

They kept talking for a while.

Maybe for the whole night.

And maybe, just maybe they laughed a lot.

And maybe Harry could forget about his negative thoughts, letting himself go and relax for a few hours. Also Forgetting the fact he didn't know where "Matty" got his number from and what his real name was. He forgot the fact, "Matty" was basically a stranger.

But Harry eventually felt weirdly comfortable talking to the Twitter guy.


	3. part three

"You look horrible."

"Thank you, I didn't ask." Harry scoffed and rubbed his tired eyes. 

"You should sleep more, party pooper!", the other guy exclaimed while rolling his eyes.

Niall Horan. His one and only Irish friend.

One of his best friends.

Well, he only considered two of his "friends" as friends, so probably he could say Niall Horan was his only best friend. 

They were sitting at Harrys kitchen table, eating freshly baked bread, which Niall had brought.

He had woken Harry up about an hour ago through knocking on his door with his fists. 

A normal behavior of his. He just came around whenever he felt like it, without dropping a warning text or call.

Sadly Harry haven't slept much, since his phone call with "Matty" lasted longer than he intended to. And no, he still didn't know "Mattys" real name. But he had no regrets. No anxiety.

Honestly, he rather felt good, which was surprising him.

"Matty" was kinda funny.

At first the conversations were pretty awkward, but in the end they flowed naturally. Harry did not feel uneasy at all.

Whatever "Matty" has done to him, the other boy did a fucking good job by making Harry comfortable around him.

They have talked about every possible topic on this planet, but mainly about 'The 1975'and their fan lives.

The two boys definitely had a common ground and seemed to get along pretty well. It made Harry kind of happy, because Niall didn't know much about his favorite band.

In the end "Matty" had made some indirect comments about repeating this phone call and Harry did not contradict, nor did he agree. But he silently wished for it to happen again. He was kind of happy to eventually make a new friend, without having to feel weird. 

Niall and Harry were eating and talking about work, after Nialls rude comments, which were not uncharacteristic. He had a filthy mouth for sure, but he was loyal as fuck and he always defended and helped his friends when they needed him. That was what Harry loved about him. Deep down Niall was a sweetheart.

Also he was the exact opposite of him. Niall was confident and he knew how he had to act around people. Harry always wished to be more like him. He was like an idol for him.

"Man! You are so lucky. I'd love to work there. I mean, you're getting free tickets!"

Yes, Harry got some free cinema tickets once in while, but watching a movie with his boss, wasn't exactly what he wanted to do, because Toni insisted on using the tickets in his presence only, which technically meant only with him.

It definitely was a weird thing for him to do. But wasn't his boss weird in general?

"So you did apply and he didn't hire you?"

Harry grabbed a new slice of the delicious bread and turned his attention back to his friend, who nodded knowingly and looked at his cup, filled with black tea.

"But you are the most talkative person on this planet. Also you would have done a better job than me."

That was bizarre... Harry thought people would hire useful employees.

Not like he wasn't useful, but Niall could have been even more useful. He was a talking book.

The Irish boy blinked rapidly.

"Sure mate. I know." he said and Harry nearly laughed due to Nialls confidence confirming his thoughts.

"But do you actually know why Toni didn't want me as an employee?"

The curly boy shook his head no.

"He literally... I repeat. Literally didn't hire me, because I am a feminist."

Yes. Niall was a feminist. He did a lot to support his girls.

His girls. A group of strong, independent activists.

See? Niall was amazing.

"Wait? Are you serious? Is this for real?"

"Harry... I said literally. Toni is a gross ass."

Ugh. Harry knew something was up. But what the actual fuck? This couldn't be true.

A sudden negative feeling overcame him. Should he quit his job? He really felt bad about working for such a rotter.

But he couldn't just leave his job out of nowhere, it would be naive.

Was it worth it though? To support Toni?

"Let me guess. You are thinking about quitting?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "You know me so well, Niall."

But yes, why should he work for this disgusting human being?

Suddenly Harrys phone lit up. He took a glance and realized "Matty" had texted him.

The topic forgotten, mobile phone more important.

A quick look to his friend revealed a curious Niall, watching his every move.

_Shit._

The boy reached for his phone nervously and hoped for his best friend to just look away. It was kind of embarrassing to him.

He felt like Niall could read his mind.

He unlocked his smartphone and opened the messages.

Harry immediately smiled down at his phone, because let's be honest, "Matty" was a real comedian, but he regretted it instantly.

"Uhhhhhhh, what was that, Harry? Did you just really smile at your phone? Oh boy, we're going down."

Harry blushed slightly. He felt his cheeks heating up.

His body was a traitor for sure.

Fucking traitor.

"Silly, tell me what made you smile and even blush. Do you have someone to bang?" His Irish friend smirked. 

"No! What the fuck?"

The curly headed lad blushed even more.

"Show me the message, Harry!"

The boy hid his phone.

Niall stood up, slowly scooting over to him, smiling innocently.

Harry jumped up and ran out of the kitchen, his phone clenched to his chest.

He could hear his best friend bump against the kitchen stool.

"Bitch, you ain't hiding things from your bestie!", Niall shouted and leaped out of the kitchen door, like a kangaroo.

Harry grinned widely. "Ha! You thought."

They fetched around the couch, but Niall could't snatch the phone away. The boy was too fast to change the direction.(Authors note: HA HA..)

But still, they had fun and both laughed uncontrollably.

It was a nice feeling to just let go of being an adult. Especially for Harry. Niall was a carefree person and the boy always had fun with him, even though he was a bit childish sometimes. He really loved his crazy, curious friend.

"You are so noisy, Niall.", Harry told the boy eventually.

Niall smirked and sat down on the couch admitting defeat.

Harry plopped down beside him, still holding his phone tightly. He shook his head and smiled triumphally.

"I feel left out, but okay." The Irish lad folded his arms in front of his chest.

____________________

Harry woke up a lot more enthusiastically than the past few weeks.

The previous day has been extremely relieving and spending his whole free time with Niall was always fun.

They have watched the first part of "The Lion King", because both, Niall and Harry, adored Disney movies.

Afterwards they have gone for a walk and bought some ice cream.

They have talked for hours and that was exactly what Harry loved to do.

Just talking and listening to people who could be trusted.

After Niall was gone, he texted 'Matty' again. Unfortunately the mysterious Twitter guy had spammed him while Harry was out, enjoying himself.

A few text messages later 'Matty' called him again and Harry couldn't tell why, but it clearly made him happy.

He kinda felt appreciated, because "Matty" asked him lots of questions and seemed to be interested in him, even though the curly boy couldn't completely trust "Matty" on his intentions, which was the reason didn't tell the other guy every little detail of his life.

Also, Harry still didn't knew where he got his number from, which was kind of nerve wrecking.

It made him a little bit anxious in the back of his mind. He hoped to find out eventually, even though he was too afraid to ask. 

Harry rolled out of his bed, the white soft covers desperately calling him back.

But the boy had to resist.

He didn't know how much longer Toni would accept his unpunctuality.

Toni the asshole.

The man who wouldn't let Niall work for the cinema, for such a stupid reason.

Unbelievably gross. For sure.

And... he had touched Harrys butt.

Goosebumps immediately covered the boy's whole body and a weird feeling of discomfort flowed through him.

He quickly shook himself, like if every negative feeling would fall off.

Apparently that wasn't going to happen.

Sadly.

After a quick shower he put on some clothes, grabbed his helmet and small bag, with all the belongings he needed; his purse, phone, key.

He ran out of the apartment to his old rusty motorbike. Its color reminded him of blood, the dark red varnishing perfectly mixing with the persistent rust.

He really loved to cruise around on his bike every now and then.

It was a strange feeling of freedom.

The wind blowing his shirt uncontrollably.

Some hair strands tickling his face and neck.

Yes. At least something that made the boy happy, besides spending some time with Niall.

It was a ride of half an hour to his working place, but the traffic made it hard to arrive on time.

Mostly he had to work on the afternoons, which meant the traffic was really busy on his way to the cinema.

Toni wouldn't accept the traffic excuse anymore. Harry had pulled it off way too often. Plus, it wasn't always the truth.

He just had issues with arriving on time. It definitely wasn't his strength.

But on this day he arrived just in time, the clock hitting the 3pm mark.

His bike parked in front of the cinema building, he ran into the entrance and nearly crashed with some kids, who were holding a big bag of popcorn.

Harry muttered a brief excuse and sprinted to the selling counter.

Toni was waiting for him beside the popcorn machine, the typical smirk on his lips.

"Wow, bro. You are not late for once!", his boss exclaimed and stepped in front of Harry. He laid a hand on the boy's shoulder.

_His fucking hand._

Harry stiffened under the touch. It set off an uncomfortable feeling inside his guts.

"Mh. Now let me get to work and earn that money.", the boy said to Toni, who looked at him intensely, pupils too big, for him being sober.

"Bad day, mate?"

Yes and you are the reason, you fucking misogynistic moron, Harry thought.

But he didn't say anything.

Harry just stepped aside, shook his head, put his bag behind the counter and grabbed his name tag out of a box beside the cash register.

"You gotta talk to me. I am your boss!"

Tonis voice was suddenly a bit louder, but Harry didn't care.

Normally he would feel the urge to punch him in the face or yell at him. But now?

No.

Nothing.

Emptiness.

Just plain emptiness.

His body was joking with him, right?

"You won't sell much with all this negativity you are spreading."

Harry didn't turn to face his boss and honestly, it wouldn't bother him if Toni would kick his ass out right away.

This man was a disgrace and only the thoughts about the touches made Harry nauseous.

Toni patted Harry's back and mattered something under his breath, but the curly lad didn't understand it... or didn't even care. At all.

His shift went by slowly and his sad mood wasn't working well. Toni was right.

The costumers seemed to sense it, because they often just ordered a drink from the fridge. Nothing big. No nacho menus or overflowing popcorn bags.

The sound of the popcorn machine made Harry unbelievably tired and put him into some kind of trance.

The noises muffled, the events forgotten as soon as they happened. No memories made during his shift.

His boss didn't try talk to him again, which was a big relief. They worked silently beside each other, even though Toni disappeared quite often to yell at the poor guy who was selling the tickets, or to sort some paperwork in his little office room beside the main entrance.

When the cinema doors were finally closed for the night, Harry was really exhausted and his eyes were burning.

His body screamed for rest and his bad mood was still present.

He left the cinema quickly and took a glance at his phone. He had several messages from "Matty" again and also some missed calls from Niall.

He decided to ignore both of them, because why would he answer them? He felt like otter shit and socializing seemed too exhausting.

So the curly boy put on his helmet and sighed.

The day had started off so well and now?

Work ruined everything.

Toni ruined everything. 

Head empty, body heavy.

Bed.

He needed his bed. As soon as possible.


	4. part four

The sound of his phone ringing woke him up and suddenly he didn't know where he was, what time it was or most importantly what day it was.

He sleepily took his phone, which was lying beside him and without realising what he did, he answered the phone.

"Hottie! You are alive!"

Harry winced. "Mattys" loud voice echoed through the phone.

"What do you want?" Harrys voice sounded deeper than normally.

"Were you asleep? Don't be grumpy." "Matty" was extremely loud and 

The curly boy closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Leave me alone. Of course I was asleep. It's ..."

Harry looked at the time. "2 a.m."

"Oh, come on pretty boy, talk to me"

Was he drunk? Or high? Probably. He sounded extremely weird.

What was up with him in general? Always hyperactive and loud. He never seemed to be sad or bothered by other peoples bad mood. He just kept talking as if nothing was wrong.

But that's not how Harry was.

He felt sad and tired all the time. Noting ever could let these feelings disappear forever, but a good conversation with Nialls talkative self could help him cheer up sometimes.

And a call with "Matty"...

He shook his head in disbelief. No. That's not true at all. 

And something inside of him exploded. His mood went from tired to extremely explosive, as realisation hit him like a nightmare and he couldn't stop himself from exploding. 

" What is wrong with you? Calling a stranger at 2 fucking a.m.! Listen Matty or whatever your name is. I don't know you, you don't know me and I had a pretty bad day. Can't you just leave me the fuck alone? I don't feel like talking to a stalker guy who's name I don't know. Just fuck off!"

He breathed in deeply and his sudden explosion faded as soon as it had appeared.

There was a noise on the other line.

"Sorry. Did you say something? A guy just emptied his stomach." The stranger on the other line chuckled a bit. 

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed loudly. "Never mind...I should sleep again. Bye." 

Was he in a bad movie or something? The one time he actually used his mouth to curse, no one listened to him. 

"Nooooo. Pretty boy. Please talk to me. Everyone is asleep or wasted."

"Where are you?" Harry couldn't stop his curiosity, even though he was mad, or at least pretended to be mad... "Matty" kind of let his anger vanish.

_Fuck._

_No._

"I'm at this weird ass party at my friends flat. But it kind of ended and I feel like a mother of an Italian family. No offense tough, they are amazing mothers with amazing families..." "Matty" rambled.

"What is happening there, Italian mother?"

Harrys soft, raspy voice sounded strange in this silence, even to himself.

"Matty" chuckled softly. "Yes yes. There is my humorous beauty again!"

"How would you know if I am beautiful? You don't even know me. Oh... and I don't know your name."

"Uhm... I can't tell you. Never mind. Let's just talk about the party."

Harry didn't want him to change the topic, but he was too afraid to interrupt "Matty", or whatever his name was.

Did he really know how he looked like?

How possible was it that he lived in the same city or let alone knew Harry?

Harry for sure didn't regocnise his voice. He was a complete stranger.

A random, weird stranger from Twitter, who hacked his phone and looked through his photos and phone numbers.

That was the only potential answer.

Don't be such a delusional bitch.

_So delusional._

He shook his head again and focused on the stranger on the other line.

"...Two on the floor that didn't want to move, so I just looked for blankets and another one on the floor that got sad waiting for her boyfriend to come to the party. One on the couch that doesn't want to sleep but now doesn't want to wake up and move."

"Matty" took deep breath and continued, seemingly unbothered by Harrys silence.

"Two, in the closed room, that just woke up from their nap, went to smoke and then went back and are trying to sleep again.

Two, in the other room, that went sleep early, the cat joined them.

And then there's two I just had to wake up, to send them back home.

Also the one who got sick ten minutes ago of course.

And last but not least, there's me. Eating crisps, chilling and checking in on everyone like a mother, because I don't know sleep."

Silence.

"You there?" 

"Uhm, yes. You have all my respect for being such a responsible mother."

He nearly smirked at his own comment.

"Was that even funny?" Harry whispered and suddenly realised he was still on the phone. He pressed his hand in front of his mouth and closed his eyes, panicking a bit.

Did the other guy hear him? 

A soft cackle from "Matty" revealed him the other guy had heard him indeed. 

_Fuck._

_Embarrassing_. 

"You are always funny, Harold." 

Huh? Harry was confused. He always called him some weird pet names, but never Harold. At least he didn't comment on him questioning his funniness. 

"Harold? You know that's not my name, right?"

"What else should I call you then? Daddy?"

If Harry wasn't entirely awake until then, he definitely was after that comment. He was completely caught off guard.

"No need to say anything pretty boy. I know you like it." 

Harry felt weird.

"I think I gotta go back to sleep." He closed his eyes and one of his brown curls fell into his face. 

The Twitter guy sighed. "Please don't leave me here as a single parent, hottie." 

Of fucking course Harry had to smile, but something deep inside his guts made him cringe away and he hated this feeling. 

Harry still hadn't responded, so "Matty" said: "Did I say something wrong? You know what, pretty boy? You will just talk from now on, so I cannot tell you weird stuff. Pleaseeeeeee talk to me..." then he chewed on some crisps, Harry assumed.

"Okay, but not as long as last time." 

And with that they talked for a few more hours… definitely way longer than Harry intended to at first.

But it was okay; because Harry let himself talk about dozens of topics and “Matty” payed attention to him and asked the right questions, he was able to soothe the curly boy with his slightly higher pitched voice, whenever he stated his smart remarks. It was a good talk.

Not even Niall made him that excited to talk about his favourite band.

The Twitter guy literally made him fanboy about “The 1975”. A full on blast of euphoria running through his veins and making him unintentionally squeal.

It all came down to a moment, when Harry was about to rant about the current music industry and asked “Matty” a question, but instead of receiving a verbal response, all he got, was quiet snoring.

He shook his head and quietly chuckled to himself as well as muttered something along the lines of: “And that’s on being a responsible parent.”

He hung up and decided to sleep as well, since the sunrise was in full swing. With closed eyes and a bright smile, Harry snuggled into his bed and felt good about himself. 

Again. 

Was this a pattern to repeat? 


End file.
